


Palm to Palm

by orphan_account



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: 5+1 Fic, M/M, fellas is it gay to hold your homie’s hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24193018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The five times John asked Tyler to hold his hand- and the one time it was the other way around.
Relationships: Tyler | I AM WILDCAT / John | KryozGaming
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Palm to Palm

**Author's Note:**

> huge thank you to @thatspottedowl on tumblr for the prompt and beta read- dellie, you’re fantastic!  
> apparently this is the first thing to exist as solely krycat on here so,,, enjoy!  
> -si

1.

Pax was a giant convention. That much was obvious. 

Tyler was tall. That much was also obvious. Of course, in a giant convention like Pax, that was only so helpful- the overwhelming amount of people made it difficult, but the little amount of leverage that he had over the crowds was useful if he knew where to look. 

It was only natural, then, that Tyler was the designated beacon of the group, looking out for the rest of their members and trying to get everyone back together. Nobody liked standing at a booth and checking something out, only to look up and the rest of the group having left suddenly. 

Tyler figured this was a reasonable excuse to stand shoulder-to-shoulder or lean against him, which he didn’t really mind, as the cramped convention was definitely negating his personal space. But, unlike the rest of the group, John used the same reason to slip his hand in Tyler’s, oh so casually, like there wasn’t a thing wrong with it.

But… there wasn’t anything wrong about it. John kept his eyes either on where they were going or on his phone, messaging Smitty with one hand even though they were  _ right fucking next to each other _ -

Everything was chill with the white-haired man who hadn’t let go of his hand for the last two hours or so, letting Tyler lead him along through Pax. Everything was fine, apparently, because according to John, “I’m not gonna get left behind at the COD booth again.”

(They had passed the booth at the beginning, before John had even decided to hold hands. Tyler was really hesitant to call his bluff.)

John’s hands were smaller than his. He wasn’t trying to notice anything, but it just so happened to be in his mind. He filed the thought away, something to deal with later, on his own.   
As soon as they were in a less crowded backstage, he shook his friend off, wiping his (now clammy) hand on his jeans and throwing a few insults that John returned in stride, no real anger or meaning behind them other than banter. 

He thinks, in that moment, that it might be the biggest thing they have in common.

2.

It was the same convention, with different people. 

Of course, it seemed like the sheer amount of people prevailed again- with the addition of stupidly bass-driven music and flashing lights and alcohol, all of which were fatal combinations for the masses of streamers who attended. Tyler was lost the moment he walked in the door, but that was the point, wasn’t it? Get lost for the night, wake up the next morning with a hangover strong enough to make you regret being born and new contacts from people you would only know online. That was networking through Twitch parties, in a nutshell. 

He ran into his friends multiple times that night, all partying away with sufficient amounts of alcohol on hand and shouting over the music loud enough that Tyler was certain they’d all be without voices in the morning. It took maybe an hour for him to regroup with John, who had his custom-made shirt halfway unbuttoned and was vaping like the little machine was his inhaler. John’s eyes lit up when he saw him, stumbling into his personal space with enough swagger to show he was plastered, and not caring enough to hide it. Tyler couldn’t blame him, he was pretty buzzed himself and things were blurring a bit, but it was still funny. 

And John leaned on him, swaying along to the song and scream-singing the words with the rest of the crowd for the moment, his eyes half-lidded and a grin on his face. Tyler laughed at how goofy his friend looked, not expecting for the silver-haired man to reach down and take his hand, linking their fingers together and pressing palm to palm in one tight squeeze. 

Tyler, in his buzzed mind, noticed a few things then. His hand was cold, possibly because of the short-sleeved altered button up he was wearing. It could’ve also been the assortment of rings on his fingers that were like little ice cubes to the touch, the cold metal an unwelcome texture for the moment. John wasn’t letting go anytime soon, though, getting close enough that Tyler could feel hot breath on his ear as he explained that he was starting to get tired of partying and he didn’t want to get lost in the crowd again. 

He didn’t object, just pulled John along with him to go get another drink and try to round up some more of their little group. It felt natural to him, as he slipped from buzzed to outright drunk, to keep holding on, so Tyler didn’t let go, instead rounding up the rest of the group into an Uber to the hotel one-armed. 

They got into the elevator together, John leaning heavily on him, fingers still laced together in a drunkenly tight grip. Tyler walked him to his hotel room, letting him go carefully and making sure he stumbled into bed safely. It was comforting, for the moment, seeing his friend curl up under the covers and falling asleep before he even left the room, but he couldn’t help but look at his hand afterward- trace the imprints in his skin the rings had left and wonder why things felt so empty all of a sudden.

3.

Evan was performing. That was big. 

It was only a matter of time until he debuted his music, and under the name Rynx, he was doing an awesome job. The tour was less expected, but Tyler was still happy for his friend and his success. And after all, what better way to celebrate a new tour than to come see the first show in LA?

Tyler counted it as a vacation, personally, because otherwise there would be no other way to celebrate such a dogshit flight and the bullshit he went through trying to convince the hotel staff that yes, he did actually have a reservation here beforehand, thank you very much. Once the hotel deal was settled, though, he left his little suitcase and made his way to the venue, e-ticket in hand and ready to party through the night in honor of his friend’s success.

The little VIP section off to the side was half full by the time he got there, which was expected, but maybe five minutes before the show started, Mini showed up with John following, explaining that they had been recording something for Mini’s second channel and had gotten carried away. Tyler was quickly sandwiched between the two, because he had gotten a spot where he could see the stage clearly and they wanted good spots too, as Mini had complained. John had just shrugged and grinned.

The show went off fantastically, because, of course it did. Great music, big light spectacles, everything a crowd needed to get hyped. About halfway through, he could feel John’s hand slowly creep to meet his down by his side, not linking fingers this time but holding on with confidence. Tyler frowned at him, but John said something about big crowds that he couldn’t quite catch, and Tyler shrugged it off. Whatever was going to help his friend.

(He completely ignored the little flutter of butterflies in his stomach that sprouted up because of the contact. No. There was nothing happening. This was just John, wasn’t it?)

He noticed Mini give John a pointed look that he couldn’t quite discern when the shorter man noticed their antics, but that was the least of his concern at the moment. 

John’s nails were painted red with gold on the middle fingers for Evan’s show. 

After the show closed up, he waited with what other friends had gathered together in the VIP section for Evan to do a quick backstage, still holding John’s hand and content to continue as such.

Evan noticed, too, giving him and John a quick look and a raised eyebrow before moving back into business-music-man mode, and Tyler felt the slightest amount of heat rise in his cheeks. He let go, then, didn’t really talk to John in depth for the rest of the night. There was a touch of guilt burning in the pit of his stomach, along with something else he didn’t know if he wanted to place.

It was nothing. John was just John.

4.

A few months later, Tyler was in a good groove in terms of videos when youtooz had to schedule their next meeting. Of course, it was in person, and of course, it came right in the middle of a good workflow, but what could he do? They were hosting a party and all for those who were coming, so he’d have at least one night of fun among all the business talk. 

It was only when he got into the room itself that he completely realized the people who would be there. Of course, a good deal of his friends were there, but the whole thing was smaller than some of the other gatherings he’d had recently. There were maybe forty people, max, one of which found him later on in the party- and he could tell exactly who it was by the way they grabbed his hand and took a place right by his side.    
John looked good, of course, as it seemed the longer that he had to put together pieces of his own, the more complex and intricate things seemed to get. 

His hand was soft, Tyler thought, and then immediately rejected it, forcing himself back onto a more normal train of thought. He complimented the clothes, the haircut, all of that, before he addressed the warm hand that was now laced with his.    
John used the same reason as he always had- he didn’t want to get lost.

Tyler thought that maybe, just maybe, the phrase was starting to lose its novelty, but he wasn’t going to protest, really, with the soothing circles that John drew on the back of his hand with his thumb. It felt all wrong, but completely right at the same time to have someone standing with him, by his side.

(The longer he thought about it, the less he could deny the warm feelings that seemed to bundle in the pit of his stomach.)

They held onto each other until Tyler had to get in his Uber back to the hotel, somehow having booked across town from the rest of the group. John blew him a kiss, and Tyler, half not knowing and half rejecting the connotations of the action, was glad that the night could hide his flushed face for the moment.

5.

The fourth of July was a tradition, any way that Tyler thought of it. Three or four years running, now, he had invited his friends to come and celebrate by setting off copious amounts of fireworks and occasionally recording other dumb shit that would naturally ensue with a group of youtube fools all under one roof. 

John was invited because.. Why wouldn’t he be? There was no reason not to, and the man didn’t have any other plans otherwise, so he was coming, along with a half dozen others. 

It was a full weekend of chaos and shenanigans ahead, and it was one of Tyler’s favorite times of the year, just for the social aspect. 

Through the weekend, though, John seemed to gravitate towards him like a moth to flame. He’d hang onto Tyler’s arm or take his hand or just stay by his side through long stretches of time, blunt and unapologetic as ever. Tyler took time to himself, sure, but it seemed like more often than not, John was close by.

The last night of the whole thing finally came, the night of July 4th in all of its firework glory, and Tyler, having been the one who purchased the big fireworks, was deemed the person who would go set them off, just like it had been in years previous. John had come out maybe fifteen minutes after he had started with a bucket of cold water and an excuse that if any of them didn’t light, they couldn’t just be on the ground. 

He didn’t hold Tyler’s hand, for once, but he was two steps away, right with him while he was lighting things up and watching multicolored sparkles dance across the sky. 

The quiet between them was mind numbing, even as loud as the fireworks were, the quiet between them felt even louder. 

Tyler asked him, as he was setting up another mortar rocket in its launcher, why John had kept coming up to hold his hand through the weekend. He was tempted to tack on the party before that, and the party before that, but that was asking a lot of his people skills. 

John, to his credit, smiled and blew out a plume of smoke and murmured that he felt a lot more comfortable by Tyler’s side anyways, so why wouldn’t he want to hold his hand?

And Tyler looked at him. Really looked. Studied him close like he was a museum artifact that he’d never see again, and when John caught his eye again, he swore he could feel his heart jump in his chest, betraying the calm front that they had put up together. He could see a touch of pink grace the tips of John’s ears, the most of a blush that he had ever seen of him.

Tyler turned back to the fireworks and lit up the mortar rocket. He could hear John sigh, but an idea that popped into his head had his heart racing too hard to acknowledge it. The firework hissed as they backed up, and Tyler didn’t look skyward.

The sky was covered in blue and white when he kissed John, in his own backyard, underneath gunpowder stars and in the fresh summer air. 

+1.

“Okay. Pax. Again. I swear this shit is getting more repetitive.”   
  
“It always is.” Tyler sighed. “But at least we’ve got a panel together this year.”   
  
“Should be interesting.”   
  
“Yeah, I wonder what somebody’s gonna ask me or you to sign this time.”   
  
“That’s if we have time for a signing.”   
  
“Not necessarily.” He shrugged as the car approached the convention center. “People just find a way somehow, it doesn’t matter if there’s a real signing or not. Like when that one kid got Brian to sign his forehead.”   
  
“Would you do that?”   
  
“What, sign someone’s forehead?” He laughed. “I mean, if they really wanted to get their forehead signed, then sure.”   
  
“We’re here,” John said with a sigh as they got out of the Uber. He started to walk towards the center, by himself, when Tyler called out to him.   
  
“What are you doing?”   
  
“I’m gonna go sign some kid’s forehead, duh.”   
  
“Not without me.” Tyler said, holding out his hand, palm out. “I don’t want you to get lost out there in the crowds, you know how packed it’s gonna be.”    
  
And maybe it was the smile in his voice, maybe it was the memories of conventions previous, maybe just the chance to hold his hand again, but John took his outstretched hand, and they walked in together.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos n comments are not expected but appreciated nonetheless! tell me what you thought!  
> -si


End file.
